


The Believer and the Cynic

by Philosoferre



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast, Beauty and the Beast Elements, F/M, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Inspired by Beauty and the Beast, Light Angst, M/M, Metaphors, Minor Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Pre-Relationship, Roses, Written for a Class, castles in the woods, enjolras is bad at promises, eponine is a servant, grantaire is way too hopeful for his own good, longer than intended, lots of metaphors, martyrism, no actual romance sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosoferre/pseuds/Philosoferre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were beauty and the beast- beauty the believer, and the beast, the cynic.</p>
<p>Thus, their story begins.</p>
<p>(or Beauty and the Beast Enjoltaire-ified)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Believer and the Cynic

**Author's Note:**

> This was honestly just an assignment, but...I mean, it's good??? Just, here, have some pre-slash Enjoltaire, an abundance of metaphors and slight angst. To my dearest friend Mirela, the E to my R.

Honestly, all Enjolras had wanted was a quiet night to himself at the Musain. Apparently, he couldn’t even get that. Half an hour after he arrived, a man came running in through the doors, face red and eyes wide. Enjolras recognized him as Marius, his friend.

 

“Marius! What are you doing here?” He asked, startled.

 

The Musain wasn’t typically Marius’ scene.

 

“I was just going to the docks to check up on a new shipment, you see, but apparently they had been stolen. So, I was coming back when I got lost in the woods, but then I came across a splendid castle. It didn’t seem occupied, and storm clouds were beginning to gather, so I went inside to take shelter during the storm. I soon found a marvelous feast prepared for me, and I assumed that the ghost whom lived in the castle was hospitable.

As I was leaving, I saw the most beautiful garden and I just had to stop to pick a rose for Cosette. But, you see, as I picked the flower, a man appeared out of nowhere and yelled at me for taking advantage of his kindness by ruining his garden. I apologized, but he didn’t think that was enough, so he threatened to take Cosette as his prisoner when he learned the rose was for her.”

 

Enjolras frowned, “So, this man lets you stay in his castle and even gives you food, and then threatens to take your fiancé as a prisoner just because you took a single rose?”

 

“Yes,” Marius confirmed.

 

Enjolras immediately arose and stepped out of the Musain, followed by Marius. He started towards the outer edge of town, not exactly sure where he was going.

 

“Enjolras! Enjolras, wait up. Where are you going?”

 

“To that castle. How do you get there?”

  
Marius stared at him, “Why?”

 

Enjolras turned around and crossed his arms, “I’m going to replace Cosette, and let the man take me as prisoner.”

 

“But…what if you get yourself killed?”

 

“A martyr is always held in high honour.”

 

And he continued walking at a faster pace, ignoring Marius’ desperate calls. As he reached the edge of town, he turned and watched as Marius ran after him, halting breathlessly.

 

“The castle is near the main road- it’s not hard to spot, you’ll find it easily.”

 

And with that, he left, a grim expression on his face. Enjolras watched him disappear into the distance before proceeding into the darkness of the forest.

 

Marius was right, and the castle loomed above the pine trees. It was a Gothic-style building, with stained glass windows and tall towers, and a heavy oak door. Enjolras felt incredibly small standing in front of it. He took several deep breaths, reminding himself that this was the noble thing to do, before hesitantly knocking.

 

The door immediately opened.

 

Behind it stood a man with vibrant blue eyes and inky curls, looking at him with a somewhat amused expression.

 

“Can I help you?” The man asked.

 

“Yes. Are you the man who threatened to take my friend’s fiancé prisoner for stealing a rose?”

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

“I’ve come to take her place as your prisoner.”

  
The man laughed, “It seems I’ve got a martyr on my hands. And why would you be doing this, may I inquire?”

 

“It’s the right thing to do; she doesn’t deserve this.”

 

“And neither do you. Are you trying to prove yourself to someone, perhaps? I find it hard to believe you’re here just for an act of self-sacrifice.”

 

“Well, that’s the truth. Are you going to accept me or not?”

  
The man stepped back and bowed, “If you want to do this, suit yourself. I am not going to stop you. Make yourself at home.”

 

Enjolras scowled as he stepped inside, observing the castle’s interior. It was massive and lavish, decorated with chandeliers and red carpets and golden candelabras on polished oak tables.

 

He was beginning to wonder who this man really was- and why he lived isolated in such a grand castle. In the middle of the woods.

 

The man looked at Enjolras with a curious expression.

 

“My name’s Grantaire, by the way.”

 

“And I’m Enjolras.”

 

\----

 

Enjolras was staring out the window at the surprisingly gorgeous view when Grantaire came knocking on his door. Well, more like opening it and waiting for a formal invitation.

 

“What do you want?” Enjolras asked, turning around.

 

“Dinner’s ready,” Grantaire replied.

 

And with that, he turned around and left. Enjolras quickly followed him downstairs.

 

As they were served dinner by one of Grantaire’s servants, a girl by the name of Eponine, Enjolras asked how he had come in possession of such a castle.

 

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how do you come to live here?”

 

Grantaire shrugged, “It was my parents’. They had inherited it from my father’s parents, who used to rule this land when it was still a kingdom.”

 

“So, you’re royalty?”

 

“By blood, yes. By choice, no.”

 

“And what of your parents?”

 

“They’re dead.”

 

“Oh…I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be. After all, it’s not healthy for a prisoner to feel sympathetic for their captor, is it not?”

 

Enjolras leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, “There’s nothing wrong with feeling sympathy.”

 

“You’re right, but shouldn’t you feel some sort of dislike towards your captor? Sympathy is not what I’d expect.”

 

“Well, it’s what you’re getting. Now can we please eat?”

 

“Bon appetite.”

 

As they finished dinner, Enjolras learned more about his captor- that he was an artist in his free time, witty and a cynic.

 

He believed in nothing, so to say.

 

This angered Enjolras more than it should have- why bother with a cynic who understood nothing of the ways of the believer, the idealist?

 

The cynic strove to achieve nothing, believed in nothing, while the idealist strove to create a better world and believed in everything.

 

They were beauty and the beast- beauty, the believer, who saw the existent (and non-existent) goodness in the world; and the beast, who saw the ugly shadows of the world, and chose not to acknowledge its positives.

 

 Thus, their story begins.

 

\----

 

Day after day, Enjolras and Grantaire had dinner, which was always served by the servants. And at the end of dinner, Grantaire would always ask if, once his deed was finished, Enjolras would remain in the castle to keep him company. And every time the proposal was repeated, Enjolras rejected.

 

He had learned to accept Grantaire as he was, and had found the beauty locked up inside him. He had seen him help his servants restore the flower garden and feed stray animals that wandered up to the castle. He had seen the passionate, good man inside, but no matter how hard he tried, Enjolras simply could not get over his cynicism. The fact that Grantaire believed in absolutely nothing drove him insane, and he couldn’t bear to imagine spending more time with him.

 

And every time he politely rejected, Grantaire just shrugged, smiled, and said, “You’ll come around eventually.”

 

\----

 

For the majority of the day, Enjolras spent his time in his room, chatting with the servants, walking in the forest, or reading in the grand library. He hadn’t known about it until a week after he first came, when he had decided to help Eponine dust the rooms in the castle. He had stumbled across the library by chance, and now he spent hours upon hours sitting on the plush velvet sofas, reading volumes of every sort.

 

There were books about philosophy, which he enjoyed greatly, and books about plants. There were tales of heroic knights and princesses, or dragons guarding hordes of treasure, or even, on the rare occasion, stories about the land. Enjolras read and reread these books with an untamed passion, and would only come out for fresh air or dinner.

 

That was how he spent his days.

 

That is, until the day he received a rather sudden message, from none other than Grantaire himself.

 

“I have a message for you,’ Grantaire said over dinner one day. ‘It was delivered by a man named Marius. He told me to tell you that you are, if I am to use his exact words, ‘cordially invited to his wedding with his dear Cosette, which will be taking place in two days.’”

 

Enjolras looked up, “A wedding? Marius and Cosette’s wedding? And I’m invited?”

 

“I do believe I made that part clear.”

 

“But…I mean, I can’t go.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I’m your prisoner, remember? I can’t just get up and leave.”

 

“I don’t see why not. We never established a certain amount of time you must be here. In fact, if you wish to leave, you may. I am not going to hold you back.”

 

“Do you not want me here?”

 

“I never said that, Enjolras. I’m simply offering you freedom of choice. If you stay here, I will be more than happy, but that is your decision, not mine.”

 

“Well- what if I leave for the wedding, and only that?”

 

“You may do as you wish.”

 

“Then grant me ten days where I may visit my family and friends, and attend the wedding I was invited to.”

 

“They are granted.”

 

“Thank you. I will leave tomorrow morning, and I promise I shall return in ten days’ time.”

 

A shadow passed over Grantaire’s face, but he said nothing. It was obvious that he didn’t believe Enjolras would return, in ten days or at all, but Enjolras was going to prove to him that maybe, just maybe, he could spare some trust.

 

For even cynics must believe in something.

 

\----

 

Enjolras left early the next morning, and he paid no attention to Grantaire’s demeanour. The man bid him farewell at the door, but had said nothing else during the course of breakfast. He had remained unusually silent, eyes cast down, as if he did not wish to see Enjolras once more before he left.

 

As Enjolras made his way back to the town, he found himself wondering why Grantaire had seemed so upset. After all, hadn’t he told him he could leave the day before?

 

He decided not to dwell on the thought.

 

The wedding was, as expected, a lovely event, with a beautiful ceremony and great food. Enjolras caught up with all the friends he had left, and as the wedding progressed, he quickly forgot about the castle in the woods, and its residents.

 

By the time the moon was rising, guests were starting to leave. Enjolras congratulated the bride and groom (for the tenth time) and headed home.

 

He had nine more days in the town, and then it was back to the castle. But, in all honesty, as the days passed, Enjolras wasn’t so sure he was ready to return.

 

\----

 

Ten days passed. Enjolras could not bring himself to return.

 

\----

 

Eleven days passed.

 

\----

 

Twelve days passed.

 

\---- ~~~~

 

Thirteen days passed.

 

\----

 

Fourteen days passed.

 

\----

 

Fifteen days passed.

 

Enjolras finally persuaded himself to return. He bade farewell to his friends and family and made his way back to the castle.

 

He didn’t know what was awaiting him- was Grantaire going to kick him out, or yell at him for not upholding his promise?

 

\----

 

Enjolras’ stomach twisted when he finally reached the beautiful wooden doors, hand raised to knock.

 

But before he could, the door opened and Eponine looked at him with wide, distressed eyes. She quickly ushered him in before slamming the door shut.

 

“Eponine? Where’s Grantaire?” He asked.

 

Eponine didn’t reply, but instead grabbed his wrist and dragged him towards the library. His heart was beating fast and he was panicked.

 

What was going on?

 

Had something happened?

 

He quickened his pace to match Eponine’s, and the pair halted inside the library. It was just as it had been when Enjolras had left- books piled up beside the sofa, books he had read and books he had planned on reading. The curtains were wide open, and the golden sunlight was shining down upon the sofa, where Grantaire lay passed out.

 

Enjolras’ breath hitched in his throat. Had he done this? Had his disappearance caused this?

 

He quickly rushed to the sofa, letting out a loud breath of relief when he felt a faint, but steady, heartbeat.

 

“How did this happen?” He asked.

 

“When you didn’t come back after ten days, like you promised you would, Grantaire got mad. Mad that he’d let this happen and mad that you didn’t come back. So he just sat by the door for hours upon hours, waiting for you to arrive, drinking our entire supply of wine. He passed out this morning.”

 

“I’m…I’m sorry, I really am. If I’d known-“

 

“You would’ve come back, right? Well your presence isn’t going to help now. You should’ve kept your promise, Enjolras. It would’ve made everything easier.”

 

And with that, Eponine left.

 

Enjolras stayed like this, by the sofa, until the sun was setting, and then he made a quick decision. He carried Grantaire all the way across the hall to his old room, where he set him down on the bed and proceeded to take care of him.

 

\----

 

After two days, Grantaire stirred. Enjolras was half-asleep in his seat by the bed when the man opened his eyes and sat up, looking around the room with something akin to panic. His gaze settled on Enjolras, and hurt flickered across his face.

 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, voice soft.

 

“I came back. You had passed out, so I took care of you.”

 

“Did you not receive help?”

 

Enjolras looked down, “Eponine was mad at me.”

 

“Rightfully so.”

 

“I’m sorry, Grantaire. I really am. I don’t know why I didn’t come back, I just…I couldn’t bring myself to.”

 

“Then why did you come back now?”

 

“Because I…I care about you, and I was worried something had happened. I felt awful for breaking my promise.”

 

“You are forgiven.”

 

“Do I still have a place in your castle?”

 

Grantaire smiled, and Enjolras would be straight out lying if he said he hadn’t missed his smile.

 

“Always and forever,” was his response.

 

\---

 

And so, Enjolras stayed at the castle, out of free will this time. Things continued as if he had never left, with proposals followed by rejections occurring every night.

 

As time passed, the believer learned that every beauty has its beast, and the cynic learned that every beast has its beauty.

 

One day, as they were having dinner, Grantaire decided to offer his proposal again.

 

“I shall ask you once more: will you stay here and keep me company?”

 

And, unlike all the previous nights, Enjolras said, “Gladly.”

 

\----

 

The next morning, when Enjolras awoke, he saw a single rose on his windowsill. Curious, he got up and looked at it. Attached to the stem was a note that read _because of you I have learned that every rose has its thorn, and every thorn its rose_.

 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Just imagine that they make out after this scene. I would've added some romance, but, I mean, teachers and all that. Not recommended.
> 
> P.S. I desperately need a beta, for future references. Just saying...
> 
> P.P.S. Any Latin dictionary recommendations?


End file.
